Scars
by LynxMalfoy
Summary: 17 years ago, Lucius Malfoy left a bundle on the front steps of a muggle home. Now, his actions are coming back to haunt him. Enemies must band together to overcome the greatest threat in wizard history. Voldemort. A prophecy that could make or break the biggest war the world has ever seen. Not Draco/OC compatible.
1. Warning!

Okay this is my new story Scars. It will be being posted here on the 1st of October. I will be updating it every second Friday, starting 2 weeks after I first post the next chapter. I am writing this because I need to warn other people who have read some of my other work. This is going to be a very dark story. Please don't flame it saying it's too dark and you haven't been warned. Here is your warning! I will post a warning at the top of every chapter saying what will happen and I will warn you just before it is going to happen. Please feel free to skip the parts you do not want to read. I hope you guys enjoy it. Below is a short summary about what it is about.

17 years ago, Lucius Malfoy left a bundle on the front steps of a muggle home. Now, his actions are coming back to haunt him. Enemies must band together to overcome the greatest threat in wizard history. Voldemort. A prophecy that could make or break the biggest war the world has ever seen.

I hope this is enough information to keep you guys interested until I can post the first chapter. Hope you guys are waiting in suspense.

Lynxmalfoy

xx


	2. Chapter 1

**Here you go people, the first chapter of my new story, Scars. Be warned that it is quite dark and deals with rape and child abuse. Please do not read if you can't handle it. I would suggest if you want to me safe not to read any of it and I will explain at the end of the chapter what has happened without including anything too out there.**

**Please enjoy!**

**A/N: Nothing belongs to me except the plot and a few characters. Everything else belongs to the amazing J.K Rowling.**

**Scars **  
**Chapter 1**

Another gut wrenching sob ripped it's way from my throat. I kept running, ignoring the increasing pain in my side from a stitch. I hadn't meant for it to happen, it just did. And I didn't know what had possessed me to do what I had done after I had killed him. It was as if my body had done it for me, to get back at all the mean cruel things he had ever done to me. My lungs heaved with the effort of trying to draw in a breath.

I ran, not noticing the slow steady flow of crimson from the new cut on my bare arm that was slowly but surely healing itself. The wind caught at my long pale blonde hair and tugged it backwards like a waterfall over my shoulders, as if it was trying to pull me back.

I tried to jump a small log in my path but it caught at my bare foot, sending me crashing into the dead leaves on the other side. With a sickening snap my ankle pain made bile rise in my throat and I spat on the ground to get rid of the taste of blood from where I had bitten my tongue.

I didn't have the energy to get up so I curled myself up into a ball, ignoring the scream of pain from my ankle. I began crying in earnest as the memories came back to me.

**(~)(~)(~)**  
**(Flashback)**

"You stupid girl!" My father cried as the belt came down across my back,shredding my singlet to ribbons. I let out a little scream, the pain getting past my barriers that I normally placed between myself and the outside world.

My knees buckled beneath me and I fell to the ground, wrapping my arms around myself. My mother smirked down at me cruelly.

"Oh does it hurt?" She asked, her voice sickeningly sweet. She turned to the man I called my father. "Harrison, you're hurting her. Maybe you should stop." She said heartlessly.

My father just smirked cruelly and brought the belt buckle down across my back, making it cut deep into my pale skin.

He dropped the belt and pulled my to my feet, pushing me against the kitchen counter at the same time. The marble felt cool against my sore back.

My father ran his hands down my shoulders to my chest, squeezing and touching me. I struggled to pull away from him, to make him stop what he was doing. He laughed humorlessly.

"You'll never get away." He whispered into my ear, making me shiver and want to be sick. His hand's drifted down to his fly and unzipped it.

He pushed his pants and boxers down, releasing his growing erection. My mother grabbed my shoulder and pushed me to the ground, so it was directly in front of my face.

"Suck" He commanded. I shook my head, trying to move my head. My mother grabbed my hair and held me still while my father forced himself inside my mouth. I tried to move but my mother just pulled harder on my hair as my father began to move faster, grunting.

I started pulling away, receding into my mind where I couldn't feel the pain they inflicted.

_I was used to this treatment. I had lived with Harrison and Monica Browne my entire life. They weren't my real parents, I had never known them. No, they were my adoptive parents._

_At first they were nice. Kind, loving parent's who gave me the world and then some._

_It all started changing when I turned eleven. Almost overnight, my mousy brown hair turned into a platinum blonde and my blue eyes darkened into a stormy grey._

_But the biggest change happened on a Thursday night after school. The memory of it overtook me._

_My mother had told me to not leave my drawing pencils laying on the kitchen table. I had ignored her, my eyes fixated on the television screen where my favorite show was playing._

_She had come out of the kitchen and asked me to move them. I ignored her, still watching the screen. She came over to me and turned the T.V off in a huff._

_"Please go clean up your pencil's" She had said. I didn't know why but I had gotten incredibly angry. I had stood up slowly, almost seeing red. And then it happened._

_One second I was moving towards the kitchen and then in the next moment there was a tremendous bang and the television had exploded._

_My mothers face had gone a sickly shade of white. Her mouth opened and closed several times, making her look like a fish out of water. My father had come barreling into the room, demanding to know what had happened._

_When he saw the charred, pitiful remains of the T.V a vein had twitched in his forehead Before I had known it he had picked up a shard from the destroyed screen and charged at me._

_He had landed on me heavily, pushing the wind from my lungs and knocking me to the floor. He smacked my across the face, his ring cutting a long slash along me cheek bone._

_He pushed me down, making my head hit the floor with a loud thump, effectively stunning me. He had then proceeded to rip my singlet and carve a word into my stomach. I had screamed, long and loud, which only seemed to anger him more._

_I bled profusely, staining the ivory carpet a dark red. He stood up, brushing his hands on his jeans and studying my stomach. A small smirk of satisfaction graced his features, as if he was examining his work._

_I had curled up into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest, too shocked to do anything else. I had fallen asleep like that. The next morning I had woken up in a dark cramped space._

_I started hyperventilating and banging on the door, pleading to be let out. My cries were ignored and I soon collapsed from exhaustion. This treatment continued for years._

_I was given food twice a day, once in the morning and once at night. I was let out at six o'clock every night to relieve myself._

_It was my mothers idea to send me back to school two weeks after my first beating, so that suspicion wouldn't arrive about my abrupt disappearance._

_I went to school irregularly, sometimes needing up to a week of to heal from the worst of my injuries. No one ever suspected a thing. I was beaten irregularly, sometimes a day between while other times almost a week would have passed, so that none of my wounds ever healed properly._

_The first time I ever saw the scar on my stomach I cried. In bright red, angry letters was the word "freak" that I knew would never fade completely. At first I had no clue why my father had written that but over the years it slowly made sense._

_Sometimes when I was feeling overly upset or angry, weird thing would happen, like when I was bullied they suddenly wouldn't be able to say anything and only a croaking sound would come out of their mouth which would sometimes take hours to fade._

_I was always under weight and malnourished, though no one ever noticed because I was barely outside and I had no friends to care even if they did see._

_The worst part about my life though was the waiting. Never knowing when I was next going to be hurt or fed, or even knowing if I was going to wake up the next day. I wished for death, knowing it would be welcomed with open arms._

_The cycle continued for three years until something major happened. One morning I woke up to a sticky wet feeling between my legs. I had turned the light on to find my underwear soaked with blood._

_I was humiliated. I had learnt about the natural causes that happen in growing bodies during health classes at school. I remembered watching a video that explained all that happened in the body and wishing the nature would just forget me like everything else had._

_I had cried, soaking the tiny pillow that I used every night when I tried to sleep. Later that day when my mother came to feed me I told her. She just laughed._

_"Ha!" She had scoffed, pushing the plate with a small roll, a bruised apple that was starting to go off and a small piece of cheese into my hands._

_She dumped a glass of water on the floor next to me, spilling half the contents on the floor. She shut the door in my face and stomped back down stairs, laughing all the while. Little did I know what was in store._

_Later that night she let me out to go to the toilet and have a shower. When I got out, I found a fresh set of clothes on the bench top with a small square package on top. I studied it for a moment before realizing what it was. I struggled with it for a minute or two before I got it right._

_I silently thanked my mother. She wasn't all that bad most of the time. I think she was more afraid of my father than anything, and that was the reason she allowed him to do what he did. She was often kind to me when he wasn't around._

_Four days later and it was finally over. I thanked my mother the morning it was over, my voice just a whisper. A look close to a grimace crossed her features but was gone almost as soon as I had seen it._

_Her face resolved into an unreadable mask as she took my upper arm and took me from the room, trying to make it look like she was being rougher than she actually brought me down into the lounge room._

_My father was sitting on the love-seat twirling a large deadly looking knife through his fingers. She pushed me to the ground in front of him and I fell in a heap._

_He had sneered at me and had told me to stand up. I scrambled to do what he had said, not wanting to get hurt. He had told me to turn around and I did._

_It was at that moment that I knew that this wasn't a normal day._

I was pulled from my safe haven by the sound of my fly being unzipped. I tried to retreat but my father slapped me across the face.

"Oh no you don't" he said as he roughly shoved my jeans and underwear down and off my legs in one go. I struggled against the arms that held me down, hoping that I might be able to get free.

I had once before, and my father had broken my leg as punishment. It was one of the few times I was allowed to go to the hospital. The cover story was that I had fallen down the stairs. No one had batted an eyelid. My father slapped me again, his ring cutting into the flesh of my cheek.

"On your knees." He said. I did as he said, hoping he wouldn't hit me. At first I had struggled, hoping that he would stop but over the years I had realized it was futile, that I was never going to escape the pit that was my life.

I felt rough hands on my hips and before I had a chance to scream, my father had thrust roughly inside me, ripping the skin. He continued to thrust in and out at a rough pace, the blood that was seeping from my ruined walls lubricating him.

I tried to struggle, knowing the best chance I had of escape was when he was raping me. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back as far as it could go without it ripping it from my spine. He bit my throat roughly, bruising the skin badly but not making it bleed.

I wished for a better life, wondering what I had done to deserve a life like the one I had lived. A loud groan came from my father as he shoved into my for a finally time, spewing his load deep inside me.

He let go of my hair and pulled himself out of me. A dribble of blood and semen spilled on to the tile. My father dragged my face to the spill.

"Clean it up." He commanded, pushing my face towards the gunk. I refused. I was not letting that stuff anywhere near my mouth. I felt a tingle in the back of my skull as I continued to struggle against his large hands.

The tingling increased and ran down my spine to my fingers. I was sick of being treated this way, being treated like a possession. I pushed against my father's hand and was surprised to find that it gave a little.

I gathered all my strength and pushed again as hard as I could. My father flew off me, hitting the kitchen counter with a solid thunk. My mother let out a gasp and ran to my father's side.

He stood up, swaying slightly on his feet. A murderous gleam entered his eyes and he stalked towards me. He grabbed a long kitchen knife from the block and pounced at me.

I scrambled backwards, slipping on the mixture on the floor. He missed me by inches and before I could move out of the way of his next move, he brought the knife down and into my upper arm.

A scream tore itself out of my throat as the knife stuck in the bone, I pulled away from him and wrapped my hand around the handle of the knife. I ground my teeth and before I had a second thought I pulled the knife from my arm.

My father was back on his feet and I stood up on shaky legs to face him, the knife clasped in my left hand. I exhaled and the tingling in my fingers increased. It felt odd yet familiar. I almost felt like I recognized it. And I realized that I DID recognize it.

It was the feeling I felt whenever something weird was happening, although much stronger and concentrated in a particular spot. My father lunged again and before I had a chance to think about what might happen, I pointed my fingers at him. There was a blinding flash of green light and my father was on the floor.

His eyes stared up at the ceiling, lifeless. I just stood there, the knife still clutched in my fingers. My mother crawled to his side and placed a hand on his neck. She gasped and confirmed my suspicions.

"He's dead." She said. I walked over to him and with deadly precision I slit his throat.

"What are you doing?" My mother asks, tearing the knife from my hands. I stood up, being careful of the growing pool of blood.

"Making it seem as though he was murdered so you won't be blamed." I said as I walked away from the kitchen. I ran upstairs and changed into a long dark blue skirt and a flowing black top that had both been given to me when I was a child.

The skirt now came to just below my knees and the top was a little tight but other than that they were fine. I walked slowly back down stairs and to where my mother was sitting on the couch in a daze. I knelt in front of her and held her hands.

"I'm leaving. Wait five minutes after I'm gone and call the police. Say that I killed him and threatened you with a knife if you didn't let me leave." She nodded tears in her eyes.

I didn't know if they were for me or my father. I stood up and walked to the door. I had just reached the door when my mother turned me around and surprised me by pulling me into a hug.

"I may not have shown it enough, or in ways you might understand but I did – do – love you, Serena." She walked away and came back a few seconds later clutching a letter that looked several years old.

"This was left with you on the doorstep the night we found you. I think you should read it when you have a chance." I nodded and she engulfed me in a hug once more. I broke away from the hug and left without a second glance.

It wasn't until I was half way down the street till I realized what I had done. A strangled cry came from my throat and I almost collapsed at the thought. I had killed a human being. That was when I began to run

**(End Flashback)**  
**(-)(-)(-)**

I felt my eyes close and I tried to open them again but it was like they were glued shut. I faintly heard a twig break somewhere but I was too far gone to care. I felt my mind drift as I heard another branch snap, this time closer.

The last thing I heard was a guttural voice call out to some one.

"Boss, come see what I've found!"

**There you go people the first chapter.**

**Basically what happened this chapter was that the main character (Or one of them at least) Was explain her child life and how she came to be in the situation she is in the next chapter. It describes how she was beaten as a child and suffered from sexual abuse. It ends with her killing her father and running away. She passes out in the forest and is found by someone unknown at this point.**

**I hope you guys thought that this chapter was good. I've never written something this dark before. I've hinted at it in other stories but never this in depth. I'm open to all criticism on what is wrong because I have never been in a situation like this before so I don't know much.**

**If you are here, thank you for reading this much. The next chapter will be posted on the 12th of October at roughly the same time, maybe earlier, it depends on what my timetable is.**

**Please read and review,**

**Lynx Malfoy.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Okay, here is the next chapter of Scars. I'd just like to thank anna-marie-diamondheart-900 and lightbabe for being the first two people to review my last chapter. **

**Lightbabe: It is a little hard to understand how Serena's mother can say she loves her. In essence, Monica (Her mom) was afraid of her father, so much so that she obeyed everything he said to save her own skin. She realised that he was a cruel man when he first attacked Serena. Since then, she made sure that she was the one looking after her, not her father because things would have been much worse if Harrison (Her father) was made to feed her. **

**She would have been fed less frequently with less food and would have been beaten more often. She tried to show her as much kindeness as she could, like with giving her basic hygeine products and letting her shower. Her father would have been crueller and made her give up basically all her clothing and made her shower less frequently, such as maybe once or twice a month. Her mother tried to care for as much as she could, even if it was only little things she could do.**

**I hope this clears up a few things for people and that you can actually grasp how cruel her father was to both her mother and herself. Everything her mother did while in her father's presence was an act, she really just wanted to be sick most of the time. I know it isn't really an excuse for the way she acted but she tried to provide for her as best she could.**

**I think I will leave that there and continue with the story. Any question feel free to ask them.**

**A/N: Nothing belongs to me except the plot and a few characters. Everything else belongs to the amazing J.K Rowling.**

**Scars**  
**Chapter 2**

"Boss, come see what I've found!" The man yelled as he came upon the crumpled body of a teenage girl. He knelt beside her body and placed a handon her neck, checking for a pulse. There was a cracking of branches behind him and a man came out.

He was tall, with greying black hair and blue eyes. He was muscled and his hair hung to his shoulders. When he smiled, which was rare, his teeth were yellow and sharp looking.

"She's breathing, Greyback." The man on the ground said, shifting the girl so she was facing up. Greyback looked her over and nodded.

"She's a looker." He said, using the toe of his boot to push her face around. Dirt was smeared across her cheek and her hair was tangled with leaves and twigs.

The other man pointed to her ankle which was stuck at an odd angle.

"I think it's broken." He said, taking in the scars that covered her legs where her skirt had rode up. Greyback snorted in derision.

"Really?" He asked, sarcasm obvious in his voice. There was more crashing behind them and Greyback turned to see two more of his group join them.

"Are we taking her or not?" The man on the ground said, standing up and dusted dirt from his ripped jeans. Greyback thought for a second before he nodded.

"Might as well, our Lord will find a use for her." he said. He turned to one of the men who had just joined them.

"Lucian, get her will you?" he said as he walked back to the rest of the group that were situated in a clearing a few metres away. Lucian picked her up, and was surprised at how light she was.

He followed Greyback and stopped just outside the circle of menof which there was about six of them**, **including Greyback himself. Inside the circle sat two people, a woman who looked to be around 40 years old and had frizzy blonde hair and a young boy of no more than 11 or so years who had brown hair and vivid blue eyes.

The woman whimpered aand one of the men hit her across the back of the head. She slumped forward, unconscious. The boy looked on in silence, too terrified to utter a sound. Greyback nodded at the men and two of them grabbed the boy and woman. Greyback nodded again and with a loud pop, everybody vanished into thin air.

**(-)(-)(-)**

I woke up slowly, my body aching in places that had never ached before. I tried to open my eyes but it felt as though they had been glued together. I groaned, and tried to sit up. None of my muscles seemed to be working and all that happened was that I shifted a little to the left.

I felt something cool against my arm and all my memories came back to me. Images flashed through my mind until they settled on one, the second the green light had touched my father and the look on his face. As though cold water had been thrown all over me, I sat bolt upright, only narrowly avoiding hitting my head on a protrusion from the wall above me.

My eyes flashed around the room, taking in everything in seconds. I was in a cell, perhaps 8 feet by 10. There was a thin matress on the floor and a ratty blanket that had fallen off me when I had sat up.

On closer look, the thing on the wall above my head was a thick ring, obviously meant for manacles to be attached to. A thin, delicate chain was attached to it. I follwed it's snaking trail down to where it met my wrist.

I lifted my hand and looked at it carefully. It was a thick band of metal, at least 2 inches wide. The chain attached seeamlessly and I couldn't find where it opened. I reached for the chain and tried to pull it. My hand had closed around it and I had barely begun to pull when the pain raced through me.

White hot, it was worse than anything I had ever felt before. I fell back, my head hitting the cold stone floor. I writhed around, my ankle hitting the wall. Just as soon as it came, the pain stopped. I lay there, my breath coming in gasps. My ankle ached from striking the wall. I stood up shakily, careful not to put too much pressure on my ankle.

For the first time, I wondered where I was. The last thing I remembered was falling down in the forest. I normally wouldn't have run so far into the forest but I had been driven by a need to get away from the house.

I lived in Coalway, a small town near the Forest of Dean. My street actually looked onto the forest, meaning it was a dead end. I don't know what had prompted me to go there, I had heard bad stories about it from the kids at school. Not that I talked to them or they talked to me.

I walked to the door of my cell and tried to see out. All I saw was black. I made my way back to the matress and laid down on my back. I stared up at the ceiling and not for the first time I wondered what my life would be like if I hadn't been adopted.

**(-)(-)(-)**

"My Lord." The man said, wringing his hands together nervously as he cowered on the floor at the foot of a throne. The skeleten like man in front of him turned, locking his red eyes on the shaking form in front of him.

"Yes, Wormtail?" He hissed, his voice low but it carried down to Wormtail.

"Greyback has come back from getting the Burbage woman and the boy." The man said as he looked upwards. His eyes met the red of his master's and he quickly looked back down. He paused for a second before he continued on.

"He also brought back a girl." The rat-like man added., his hands still clasped together, his face looking toward the floor. The man on the throne stopped and stood up quickly. He walked down a few steps and stopped just above Wormtail. His presence made the weedy man shiver.

"A girl?" He hissed.

"Greyback thought she could be used in the meeting tonight." Wormtail said, his voice quivering as he tried desperately to control his body and make it stop quaking.

"Greyback thought, did he?" The man hissed. He turned and swept back up the stairs to his throne. He sat down, his cloak flowing in a midnight black river of fabric. He thought to him self for a minute while Wormtail waited patiently. He looked back down at his servant.

"Very well, Wormtail. Bring her to the meeting once we have finished that half-blood muggle studies teacher." Wormtail stood and bowed low. He scurried backwards and was almost at the doorway when his master stopped him.

"And Wormtail?" He said as he stared at his servant.

"Yes, Milord?" He said, bowing low again. The snake-like man laughed quietly to himself.

"Give this to Greyback the next time you see him." Wormtail looked at his master for a second confused. The snake man laughed again, this time louder. He raised his wand.

"_Crucio!_"

Wormtail's screams echoed off the high ceiling.

**(-)(-)(-)**

Several hours after first waking up, I heard a dull thump, followed by scurry footsteps. Seconds before the door to my cell had opened, I leapt to my feet. In the doorway stood a small man that I was sure I could overpower given the chance.

His face was covered by a silver mask with swirls and lines all over it. He wore a long midnight black robe that had a hood that covered his hair. He pulled a stick from inside his sleeve and walked towards me.

"Who are you?" I asked, and I was surprised by how controled my voice was. The man said nothing, only walking closer towards me. I backed away, my hip bumping against the ring attached to the wall.

He reached me and grabbed my arm. I gasped at how strong he was. I looked down to see a silver hand clamped around my manacled wrist. I tried to pull away but he only tightened his grip, so that I could feel the bones in my arm rubbing together.

He brought the stick to my arm and touched it to my manacle. Instantly it melted away and fell to the floor, re shaping as it went so it was whole when it touched the floor. The man's grip weakened and I took the chance to get away.

I stomped on his foot with all the strength I had. He let go and I didn't think before I ran from the door. I made it outside. I took a right without thinking, and I knew that I had gone the wrong way. But I couldn't turn back now, the man was right behind me.

I felt something fly past my shoulder and it hit the wall, throwing up a cloud of dust. I could only assume that he had a gun and was not afraid to use it. I kept running and when I got to the next intersection I turned right instead.

Before I had a chance to think of something I crashed into something. Hard. I flew backwards a good ten feet before I landed on my back. My head hit the floor with a crack and the worl faded into nothingness.

**(-)(-)(-)**

I awoke slowly, much like the first time. Only this time I knew I was not alone. I sat up as quickly as I could, despite the roll of sickness that washed over me. I turned around, looking at the faces that watched me silently.

Above me was the man who opened my cell, with his hood down. The stick was pointed straight at my heart and I knew that it was dangerous. I was sitting at the foot of a small staircase that led to a throne.

Suddenly all eyes looked towards the double doors at one end of the room. They burst open and a figure walked down the aisle, his black cloak making not a single noise against the harsh stone floor.

Glowing torches lined the walls and a roaring fire stood on one side of what looked like a school hall, ecept much larger. I guessed there was around 75 people in the room, all of them men. Behind the man walked a woman.

She was tall and had hair as black as the man's cloak except for a white streak down the middle which made her look extraordinarily like a skunk. Her face was heart shaped and would have been pretty, if not for the mad smirk across her features. She looked across the room and saw me. Her face broke into a grin and a gleam entered her eyes.

The man reached the steps and mounted them with an inhuman grace. He spun and sat down on the throne.

"My followers" he hissed. I got a good look at his face. What I saw made me shiver. His eyes were red and snake-like, with a cat pupil. His skin was pale white and where his nose should have been was two slits. I looked down almost instantly. I tried to drown out the sound of his voice. I didn't know why I was here or where even here was.

Before long, everyone began to leave, small pops echoing throughout the cavernous room.. Before long, there was only 25 or so people in the room. I looked towards everyone to see that all eye's were on me.

I suddenly had a bad feeling. Something was going to happen. And I didn't want to be around when it did.

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**There you go. The next chapter. I hope you guys like it. I wasn't particularly happy with it but you might think differently about it. **

**One thing, the town I've mentioned during this chapter ( Coalway ) is a real town that is situated on the outskirts of the Forest of Dean. The street in general is Birch Park. It actually does end in forest. I did a bit of research for this chapter because I don't actually live in the UK. There is, however, no school in Coalway (As far as I can tell.)**

**Thanks for reading. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.**

**LynxMalfoy**

**xx**


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